Crazy's Not A Label
by IAmTheLonelyHeart
Summary: AU. All of her life, Sam had been labeled 'crazy'. All it took was a few months with Danny to find out she's not. Rated T for mentions of death and mental illness, etc.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom**

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**Author's Note: This story is very different from my other one (It's Complicated). It is a lot more serious, and more importantly, this one has a plot. Haha.**

**That being said, this chapter is important, but it can seem _boring_. But the next one won't be boring. Well, hopefully you won't think it is. :D**

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_Crazy's Not A Label_

Prologue

_August 2080_

In all the years that they could remember, never once had she had a visitor. Normally, the nurses would all collaborate and search through the patient's file - desperate to find any last living relatives for that final outreach to satiate the patient's hunger for human contact before it was too late, just so they could feed on that memory up until their last living day.

But in _her_ file, there was nothing. No one living, at least - just one passed grandmother and a pair of late parents. They couldn't ask her either, due to her dementia she forgot positively everything, well, almost.

There was one thing she never forgot. As it was, she was a living relic, the last remains fo her doomed world. Miraculously, she had outlived all the nurses, the doctors, and the patients who had been around for her arrival. Given, there hadn't been many, since it had been a small hospital before it was bought out, but it still rang a little strange. It was as if her whole world had melted away in the dead of night, and the next day she stood a lone survivor. Perhaps she was to lead them out of troubled times, and accidentally, they fell behind...or perhaps they all left her behind, in search of a better place. Maybe she just wouldn't move.

And still, "The story, read me the story." Night after night she would insist, smiling patiently as she demanded the same story be read to her, although she couldn't tell her own. "The story."

And night after night, each tired nurse would tuck in the nearly 80-year-old woman, open the well-worn book (perhaps another relic) and begin with the familiar words...

"All children, except one, grow up..."

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**Yay! You made it through. Review, tell me what you think. Don't be brutal on my poor little heart.**

**Second Disclaimer: I don't own the last quote in this chapter. That is from an actual book, but I won't say which one. I'd like to see if you can figure it out. It's not that hard, I promise.**


	2. Chapter One

**Disclaimer: I still do not own Danny Phantom.**

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**Author's Note: Wow. I love that people are reading my story, and I love _Kanashii.Umi_ and _Cee Cee The Critic _for reviewing. _Kanashii.Umi_ was also correct in guessing where the quote from the last chapter is from, so if you'd like to know, you could look it up in her review.  
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_Crazy's Not A Label_

Chapter One

_September 2008_

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**a trellis, marble fountains, trees reside**

**in the old back lot of the rich man's pride**

**an old mansion, now restored**

**once, twice, before it was sold**

**now ivy overgrows its white-washed walls**

**while patients in white glide down its halls**

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I darkly eyed a partly-opened window, probably leading into a basement of sorts. _I could shimmy through that,_ I thought, _I know I'll fit - I will. And if I tell someone, maybe Angie will cover for me! Yeah...she'd do good. She'd tell Davey something to distract him, and then she'd alert the others, so if he thinks I'm gone, they could lie. "No, no, no. She stayed in bed today," they'd say. And he'd buy it. Sure, I'd be in trouble when everyone found out, but I'd be long gone by then._

"Hey, Miss, isn't that your group? You wouldn't want to lose them. Here, I'll walk you over," a boy offered.

I peered out from behind the tree, ready to attack this know-it-all, ready to rip into him with my claws. "Hey!" I protested. "Maybe I _do _want to lose them - ever thought of that?"

But I was too late. He was already waving Davey over. And that's when the sunlight hit him, and for the first time I really got a good look at him. Maybe if my life was a cheap romance novel sold by the dozens (and not a dusty tale of my unfortunate and uninteresting life hidden by the stacks of the bestselling romance novel), maybe I would have fallen in love with the boy at first sight. Maybe I would have looked up into gorgeous eyes and perfect hair...

Instead, I looked up into his plain - but troubled? - blue eyes (dark, too, or maybe it was just the shadow of his hand falling over his eyes) and his dark, messy hair flopping over his face. "Hey! I've got a lost girl over here!"

Davey practically ran over, searching. "Where? Where? Oh! Samantha, I didn't know you were on this trip!"

"Uh, yeah. I was, um, in the back of the group," I mumbled.

Davey beamed at the boy who "found" me. "Samantha, just imagine - you could've been lost! You might have had to stay overnight here, if it wasn't for this boy - your savior, your knight in shining armor! What's your name, boy?" Davey was a romantic, and anyone would have been able to guess it.

"Danny, Danny Fenton, sir. And I take it that you're Samantha?" He asked, glancing at me.

I rolled my eyes. "Actually, Sam. And thank you _so_ much for rescuing me, _Mr. Fenton_," I drawled. Then, when Davey's back was turned, I leaned in really close to Danny and stuck my finger in his face. "And by the way, _Danny_, I didn't want to be found."

Davey turned back around. "Well, we better get back to the group, right Samantha?"

"Sure thing, Davey!" I chirped. "See you later, Mr. Fenton!"

I mentally noted that name - Danny Fenton. I'd need it later, to add to my hit list.

**--DP--**

As it turned out, I _did_ see Danny again - and sooner than I expected, or wanted.

In fact, I was in line to get my lunch, when I heard that annoyingly over-happy voice. "Hey, Sam! Peas or corn?"

I looked up, only to see the boy from my nightmares holding up two spoons - one of green mush, and one of yellow. How could anyone be so peppy with both hands full of toxic cafeteria food?

"What are you doing here?!" I cried.

"Nice to see you too! I'm helping out, for charity," he answered. "Now, peas or corn?"

"Peas," I said, rolling my eyes.

He grinned and dumped two double spoonfuls on my tray. "Guess we'll be seeing each other a lot, huh?"

My answer: an exaggerated sigh, as I turned and walked away.

**--DP--**

"I don't see why you don't like him," Irene complained over lunch. I stayed away from the peas. "I think he's adorable."

"Those eyes," Kates moaned.

"That hair!" Irene added.

"Well, you guys can have him. He ruined my only chance to get out of this place," I declared, stabbing a piece of chicken. "I don't want him."

"Sam, stop being so over-the-top. You'll have another plan to bust out within the week's end. And I only wish I could have him," Kates said. "But-"

"He so totally only has eyes for you," finished Irene.

I frowned. "I didn't know delirium was on your list of illnesses," I teased. "Both of you, really! As if he'd like-"

"Hey, Sam, can I sit here?" Danny asked, appearing at my elbow.

"Me." I shrugged. "Sure, why not?"

"I'm off-duty now," Danny explained, as if I had asked. He set about to cutting his chicken into bite-size pieces. "I'm on my lunch break, and I didn't really want to sit with the lunch ladies...you girls don't mind, do you?"

Irene and Kates shook their heads, too speechless to speak, since their dream guy had just plopped in front of them. No surprise Danny'd be their dream guy, who else was there? The mute two floors below us, who didn't do anything except drool in his chair all day? Or you could go for someone more polished - there was this really cute guy Kates had her eye on since she came - just a guy to dream about, but just last year his fatal illness finally kicked the bucket for him. He wasn't yet thirty, but that's pretty lucky for what he had.

"Great. And you're cool too - right Sam?"

"Cold as ice," I said, forcing a grin.

Danny smiled right back, oblivious.

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**I don't want anyone to get the wrong impression. I am NOT as flippant as Sam is about death. I find death to be a very serious matter, as I do mental and physical disabilities. I would never be able to just talk about it like Sam does, but that's because I have a very different background. Please do note that Sam, in this story, is surrounded by death all the time, so it's completely natural to her. I hope that I did not and will not offend anyone with this story. If I did, I am truly sorry.**

**That being said, I hope you liked this chapter and feel free to review.**

**Also, the poem in the beginning is _my original work_. So, I do own it, and no one else does. Thank you.**


	3. Chapter Two

**Disclaimer: I _still_ do not own Danny Phantom. This is getting ridiculous.  
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**Author's Note: I still love everyone who reviews. It also makes me so happy to get emails saying that someone added me to 'Author Alert' or 'Story Alert'. You guys who do that brighten up my day. :D  
**

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_Crazy's Not A Label_

Chapter Two

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"Hey, Sam, can we walk a little?"

I rolled my eyes. _Here, Angie - my good deed of the day_, I thought to myself. Angie was really nice, but big on salvation, so she was always after me. My sharp tongue and the "malice" I held could only be balanced by doing good deeds, and the way I saw it, anything I did with Danny must count as a good deed - I wasn't having fun, but he was. It was charitable, right? "Why not, Danny?"

He didn't catch my sarcasm. "I know this great little spot-"

"Let me guess. The shady spot under the tree by the fountain, near the gazebo, the one you get to by the path covered by the trellis intertwined with vines," I recited.

"Wow, you-"

"Really know your way around here," I finished. "Yeah. I've lived almost my whole life here, Danny. I think by now, I know it through and through."

"Oh."

He stopped talking, and it occurred to me that maybe I had just used up everything he was going to say in those short minutes. I glanced over at him. He was so innocent..."So, um, how did, uh, you know about that spot?" I asked. I couldn't believe I was doing this, being..._nice_ to Danny! Genuinely nice! An honest-to-God good deed. No sarcasm! And it was almost killing me.

"Well, I knew someone who was in here for awhile. Not, um, a relative, just a friend. We did this charity work in school a few years back, and we visited the retirement homes. After I got to know her, she was transferred out of the program, and moved here."

"Wow, tough. Maybe I know her? What's her name - Elmira? Harriet? Elsa? Sandra?" I guessed, suggesting the names of some older tenants, down on level B, the floor below us.

"No," Danny said, softly. "Nadine. Nadine Rosenberg."

"I don't think I know any Nadine," I said, frowning. I was thinking. Was she that friend of Olivia's? The one whose son always sent her baskets of fruits and pastries and sweets that the whole floor heard about, since she can't have sugar and hates fruit?

Danny lowered his eyes, his dark eyelashes almost scraping his cheeks. "You, uh, wouldn't. She's...not among us anymore."

"Oh. Wow. Danny, I'm really, really, really sorry." Immediately I wanted to bite my razor-blade tongue. Sorry?! What was I, turning into one of them? And all because of Danny? I had to remember, I couldn't be blinded by this boy and forget my past.

He shrugged, saying, "Yeah. What can you do about it though, right? Sometimes, life just sucks."

I couldn't even come up with anything clever to say with that - I was too shocked that I actually agreed with something Danny said - so I just stood there, silent. He stayed silent, too, and we both stood there - close enough that if I liked to, I could have reached out and pushed back that messy hair, until finally Danny moved.

"I better get back. I...sort of have to get home or my parents will freak," Danny explained, actually wincing as if I'd make fun of him.

"No, that's cool," I said, reassuring him. "My parents are...well, you know, not so concerned about where I am, so..."

Great, I thought, watching Danny's face fall. I tried to cheer him up, and I only depressed him.

"So, I...guess I'll see you around?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

Danny visibly perked up at this. "Yeah, I'll see you! Bye, Sam!" He turned and walked back into the building. I watched him until he disappeared between the glass doors.

It was weird. I'd never thought hanging out with Danny could feel so...nice.

**--DP--**

"So, when is Danny coming back?"

"Like I know," I replied, briefly picking my head up to glare at Kates from across the room. "What do I look like - his day planner?"

She rolled her eyes. "Actually, his weekly planner. And of course you'd know, I know he'd tell you anything."

"Don't even start with that! He doesn't like me, Kates, so drop it!" I protested, hoping for once she'd listen to me. I got my answer soon enough.

"Oh Danny," she sighed in a high voice, fluttering her eyelashes, "When will I ever see you again? Tomorrow - from 3:30 to 6:00? Oh, I can't wait that long, Danny! And only two and a half hours? Can't you stay longer, for me?" She paused and then started again, in a deeper voice, "Oh, Sammy, I'd love to but - you know me. Busy, busy, busy. But you know girl - I'd be with you always and forever, if you only wanted."

"I do not sound like that!" I said, indignant.

"Sound like what?"

I looked up, surprised, my mouth already moving to form words. "Wow, Kates! That sounded almost exactly like..."

"Danny!" Kates shrieked.

"Yeah...just like..." I started, and then looked to where Kates trembling finger was pointed. "Oh...Danny?"

Danny grinned. "Yeah?"

"Uh...what time is it?" I asked the first thing that came to mind, trying to cover up my surprise.

"Just about 3:30," Danny said, his baby blue eyes turning puzzled as Kates and I burst into infectious giggles.

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**Review! Tell me what you think about Sam and Danny. Tell me any ideas you have (I already wrote the story, but I'll consider your ideas and maybe I can fit them in). Tell me your favorite character. Tell me something you did today. Tell me your favorite number. Tell me anything, just review! Please?**


	4. Chapter Three

**Disclaimer: Last night, Butch Hartman handed me over the legal rights to _Danny Phantom_, and then I signed a contract with Nickelodeon for the next four seasons - which are all ready to go - to air. But alas, it was only a dream. (Just kidding. Last night's dream was about roller coasters and chemistry class).**

**-MY STORY-**

**Okay, so yesterday was one of _those days_ - the kind where everything seems boring, no matter what happens. An alien could fall from the sky or you could have a totally fun lunch, or you could meet your idol or just have a good class period and you would STILL think that the day was boring, and as a result, be all depressed.**

**If you have no idea what I'm talking about--you are lucky. So, I had a day like that yesterday, and since after school I wasn't busy, I thought I'd hop on the computer for awhile. But WMM wasn't working, so no video progress. So I updated my other story and, right after a new chapter was added...BAM! My internet goes down before I could update this one.**

**Basically, sorry for keeping you guys waiting. It makes me sad. :(**

**And sorry for the long note. But thanks for the reviews/adds/favorites!**

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Chapter Three

I was just getting back in from a stroll around the grounds with Danny, humming a good song I'd heard on the radio that morning, when I suddenly noticed how silent it was. Everyone in the halls was avoiding eye contact with me, too, which could only mean one thing...

Our room was crowded, I could tell from the sounds coming from it, all of the buzzing. It was about me, I knew. Call me paranoid, but sure enough, the minute I stepped into our room, everyone stopped talking, lowering their eyes until all you could see were eyelashes - thick and thin, black and brown and blond and red, no eyes in sight. Except for one pair - steel-gray and cold.

"What is this?" Nurse Erika purred, holding up a bulging notebook. She was standing right next to my bed, and I knew, even before I could read the writing on the cover, that the notebook she was holding was mine.

"My...notebook," I muttered, praying she hadn't looked in it.

The nurse's eyebrows shot up. "Yes, indeed. A notebook," she declared loudly, holding it up high for discretion, "a forbidden item! And non-regulation pencils, a sharpener, and even," her voice dropped in volume, but rose in pitch, "a deadly eraser!"

Shocked gasps echoed around the room, as eyes were slowly raised.

"Weapons," the nurse snarled, "and that's not all. Has anyone seen the inside?"

My eyes darted around the room, but everyone stayed still. Kates avoided my eyes, pretending to be intently involved in scrutinizing her pillow.

"Well, the inside is no better," Nurse Erika trilled, "our friend Samantha here believes she is quite the _artist_!" Quickly, she snapped open the notebook, loose papers flying everywhere. Dozens of startling green eyes rained down, silver emblems flashing. "This," she sneered, grabbing a fistful of pages - crumpling them, my precious work, "is garbage. Pictures of the same 'person', if you call it that. My dear Samantha, people do not have this shade of green eye color or have glowing orbs for hands."

I didn't even protest, my mouth stayed clamped shut in a tight, thin line, even though she was getting everything wrong. Oh, because they did, they did have those eyes, and those weren't hands...they were...they were...

"Nothing to say, then? No defense, no excuses? You have learned well, girl, but still - pack your bags. It will be the isolation chamber for you, it will. And these," she brandished my art, "will be confiscated, along with your cursed tools. They only help you along to insanity, and we only do this to protect you. Now, come along. I will supervise your packing."

And she did. She watched as I packed every stitch of clothing I owned and the necessities - toiletries, spare clothes, a towel, a robe, a single sheet, and an old flattened pillow. "Alright then, bid your friends goodbye, Samantha."

"Bye," I murmured, glancing up only briefly as the whole room mirrored my movements - brisk waves, forced smiles, whispered goodbyes.

**--DP--**

Isolation isn't so bad. I know it sounds like ancient torture - an 'isolation chamber'? But that's just Nurse Erika. Everyone else calls it "isolation" or sometimes even "vacation". A room to yourself, a little privacy, and some peace and quiet. And what do you pay? Just sleeping on the floor, but they do escort you to the bathroom and you can go whenever you want, it's just that you're watched closely. And they'll even let you take a quick shower, every two days, if you're going to be in there for awhile. And I would - possession of an illegal item cost you at least a week, maybe two at most. It all depends on if you're good. And everyone gets meals - a bowl of thick, sometimes burnt, oatmeal in the morning and a bowl of watery soup in the evening.

"Shower!" The isolation nurse, Mrs. Carter, barked, with all the air of a drill sergeant. "Samantha, bathroom now!"

Isolation sounds bad, yes, but it's really not. I know that makes me sound like a basket-case. Have they brainwashed you yet, Sam? Do you also think straitjackets are well and good? Aren't you glad they "saved" you, before you stabbed someone to death with that eraser? Aren't you glad that they saved you from your biggest enemy, yourself?

I don't believe any of that stuff. I don't take everything that they try to force-feed us in our monthly "group sessions" (aka torture). But I don't think isolation's that bad. It can seem like a prison, but I live in an institution. My home **is** a prison.

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**Again, talk to me! Pretend I'm in the middle of a desert, starved for human contact, and only _you_ the reader, can save me with your words. NOW ACCEPTING ANONYMOUS REVIEWS! (I think. PLEASE tell me if it isn't working. I never even meant to disable it in the first place because, I admit, sometimes I'm too lazy to log in and it's just easier to review anonymously sometimes...but anyway, I just found out it was disabled today, haha.)**

**End thoughts: Hmm. It is a little hard to imagine myself starved for human contact when I can hear my mom yapping away downstairs. Blah blah blahity blah blah blah (-- that's probably what my super-long notes look like to you, though, so I should probably stop talking now).**


	5. Chapter Four

**Disclaimer: Still don't own _DP_ (or everyone would know by now, since I'd scream it to the heavens).**

**Author's Note: Okay, this a short chapter, but before anyone runs me over in anger, there's an explanation for it: I had to cut it off here, or else the next chapter would be super-long, and since the next chapter is _super-super-super-important_, I didn't want anyone getting bored in the middle of it.**

**Oh! And the bad thing about anonymous reviews: I couldn't reply to _o-flightless_! I just wanted to say, OH MY GOD! FAN ART?! You've GOT to be kidding me! I would LOVE LOVE LOVE that! And actually, there's a teeny reference about Sam's outfit in this chapter, I was pretty much thinking any type of hospital gown as long as it's white.**

**Also, to _any artists out there_: I'm super jealous. Yours truly can't draw to save her life.**

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Chapter Four

**-Notice: NO POV-**

Danny appeared at the doorway of the girls' room, one hand clutching the door frame, his hair wind-blown and messy. "Uh, have any of you guys seen Sam?" He asked, brushing his floppy hair out of his face with his free hand.

The three girls looked guiltily at each other, then the empty bed. "No," said Kates, the closest to Sam's vacated bed, "not lately, but..."

"She must be around here somewhere," added Angie, following her sentence with a nervous laugh. "You know how these things go, we must always be on the grounds!"

"Have you looked by the pond?" Irene suggested. "Sam loves the pond."

"First place I looked." Danny sighed, searching the room as if for a clue as to where Sam might be. Surprisingly, he found one - a calendar. "SUNDAY! Today's Sunday, isn't it?"

The girls looked at each other. "Bit excited about a dumb old day," Angie mouthed, "isn't he?"

Kates glared back at Angie, fiercely throwing her the universal "Shush!" signal. "Uh, yes it is, Danny. Got some place to be?"

"Well, it's just - today's Visiting Day! Maybe Sam's visiting with someone!"

"Who the h-" Irene started, and then abruptly stopped after seeing Kate's warning glance. "Oh, uh...yes. Maybe."

Danny waved to the girls, called out, "Thanks!" (although they'd done nothing), and ran from the room, excited.

"He's just a tiny bit strange," remarked Angie, and the room fell silent.

**--DP--**

**-Sam's POV-**

"Your Danny boy's been looking for you," Angie told me the minute I returned from isolation. It had only been a week after all, and easy at that.

"What'd you tell him?" My eyes were narrowed, worried, even though I wasn't quite sure why Danny was special. He was just a friend, after all, and all my friends here knew everything about me - every last detail - of why I was here, what I had done here, and they didn't care a bit.

Angie shrugged. "That you were out, or you'd just stepped up a few flights to visit with Sandy and didn't want to be disturbed, or, you had wicked stomach cramps and couldn't be bothered to get out of the bathroom. That last one was a joke," Angie added, prompted by my intense glares, "cheer up. We didn't tell him anything."

I sighed, wandering over to my bed. It was cold, I'd been gone a week, and all the warmth had been sucked out if it. I'd been gone a week...had all of my friendship with Danny been sucked out of him, too?

**--DP--**

"Someone's here for you," Kates sang out, as I mentally groaned.

I hadn't told the others - they wouldn't understand - but I was _not _looking forward to seeing Danny. I just wasn't sure what would happen between us, since he most definitely must have guessed that I did belong here, in this crazy house. "Can't you tell him-"

"Sam! You have to see him, he's been waiting this whole week just for you to get out!"

"I know, but...please, tell him something!" I protested. Kates didn't get it, I just couldn't see him yet.

"It's okay, Sam. I won't bother you," Danny said, appearing in our doorway randomly, as was his custom.

Kates' mouth popped open, and she shot me a look. _You _have_ to talk to him now_, it said. _Don't be a jerk_.

I moistened my lips and nodded a bit, stepping forward so I could speak to Danny. I knew what I would say, but he was already turning to leave. "Danny, don't go."

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**Not a totally-dramatic cliffie, I know. Hardly a cliffie worth mentioning, unless any of you are dying to know: Will Danny keep walking or turn around?! :O**

**Review! And, just for your information, I'd love to update before the end of this Monday (Labor Day in the USA, so I have it off). Originally I had this whole story written, but now I'm making small changes that I think you guys will _really_ enjoy (I hope), such as expanding on Sam's back story. Before it was terrible, really - hardly a mention why she's in the place that she is.**


	6. Chapter Five

**Disclaimer: _Danny Phantom _is on my Christmas list (which means I don't yet own it...it'd still make a perfect gift...).**

**Author's Note: Yay! I got to update this in time! Thanks to everyone who reviews - this chapter is dedicated to _you_! Yes, that does sort of rhyme, anyone have a problem with that?  
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Chapter Five

**--DP--**

(Flashback from the last chapter)

_"It's okay, Sam. I won't bother you," Danny said, appearing in our doorway randomly, as was his custom._

_Kates' mouth popped open, and she shot me a look. _You _have_ to talk to him now_, it said. _Don't be a jerk.

_I moistened my lips and nodded a bit, stepping forward so I could speak to Danny. I knew what I would say, but he was already turning to leave. "Danny, don't go."_

**--DP--**

Kates threw me a look and bolted, excusing herself as she squeezed past Danny without an excuse.

Danny leaned back against the door frame, as I sat down on the bed, hoping I could trust my fat mouth not to fail me.

"Danny...I missed you," I started softly.

"I thought we were friends," he said sadly, lifting his eyes for a moment to look at me.

"We are."

"Then why were you avoiding me?"

I bit my lip and scooted closer to the door. "I wasn't. I really wasn't here for a week, it's kind of a long story and...and if you'll listen, I'll tell you."

"Give me credit here Sam, you know I'll listen."

"Okay, well...can we go outside to talk?"

I knew I deserved the look Danny gave me. "Sam, don't try to stall."

"I'd rather not say it in here." I flicked my eyes to the open doors along the hall, but that wasn't it. It was just another cruel trick. I didn't care if the others heard - for crying out loud, they'd been there when it happened! Just...in here it seemed so bad. A hospital cell. Four white walls, white floor, white dresser drawers, white bed. I blended in with my standard white dress. And white is the absence of color. Like the absence of life.

Probably in a state of pity, Danny obliged, leading me out to where it'd all began, the garden. "Now, will you explain?"

Maybe it was the outside air, but I began to talk. And even though I was rambling, I was fine. "Okay, well, it's just that...here in the hospital, you're not allowed to draw. It's taboo, forbidden because they don't want the crazies to have free access to non-regulation pencils, pens, 'sharp and dangerous' objects. Even erasers, notepads, they think you'll become violent or _something_. But, I have ways and a secret stash, or at least, I did have it. It's locked up now.

"Last Thursday, after we went for a walk, I came back and...and my room had been searched. The nurse had a lead or something, and she confiscated my art tools. But, that's not all." Here, I looked away. This was the hard part. I had to explain it well, or else Danny might think the accusations were true - that I was crazy. "Do you believe in...the paranormal? Ghosts, or angels? That sort of stuff?"

"I do," Danny answered, his voice low, but not accusing.

My heart beat a little faster, maybe he would be on my side, maybe he would see things like I do. "Me too," I said, trying hard to speak calmly. "I see them, sometimes. That's what I drew in my notebook. That's why I had to keep it an even bigger secret. Especially cause...

"A few years ago, there was this nurse. She's the one that first caught me drawing. She took my stuff and she said...she said she'd been talking. The nurses thought I was making progress. I hadn't tried to run away for awhile, and I wasn't acting out. Nothing 'crazy', nothing out of the ordinary. I don't have Kates' problems, I'm not autistic, I'm not paranoid, I'm not depressed, I'm not Margie..."

"Margie?"

"Sorry. Sandy? The short girl, big wild red hair? Angie?"

"Oh! Angie. Who's Margie? And Sandy? Are they triplets?"

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. How could anyone not know? "That's what she likes to be called, well, depending on her mood. Have you ever noticed her slight accent? That's all Angie. Normal and sweet? Sandy. Fiery as her hair? She's Margie."

Danny nodded slightly, which I took as a sign that he understood. I realized then that he probably would never fully understand, but it wasn't the time to push it.

"Anyway, the nurse said I was almost normal. Compared to everyone else in here, I was normal. But it's easy to play normal. You learn how to answer questions, how to take everything different and unique about you, and lock it up. That's what I did. Until...the drawing thing. Some things they always find out.

"Believing in ghosts? Seeing things? That made me 'crazy'. That made me nuts like everyone else. I could've been out of here, maybe fifteen years therapy tops. And the sickest thing of all? I didn't want to be out there. The thought of living out there with people like my parents? Thinking of it made me nuts enough to stay.

"Besides, there's something about the ghost that calls me back. I know it's real, but I can't explain him in words...what he does...what he is...it's too hard. So I try to capture it on paper instead. Kates calls it my addiction. My drug. A therapist told my parents I drew to keep myself sane. They blamed me, but it's their fault. Of course I'm crazy! My parents took me to a _therapist_ during my vacation! They said I couldn't afford to miss the support.

"So last week, when they found out I was still drawing, still spouting stuff about paranormal beings...I got in big trouble with the nurses. I was kind of in isolation for a week, so I couldn't see you. And okay, I did try to avoid you a little bit today, but only because..." Why was I still talking? Why hadn't I stopped after the isolation? But Danny was still looking at me, so I took a breath and...told him the truth. "Because I wasn't sure if, after I told you where I'd been, you'd..."

"I'd what? Not want to be your friend anymore?" Danny was definitely enjoying making me squirm. He'd known me long enough to know that I hated that mushy stuff, or at least, admitting things like that out loud.

"I just don't want you to have pity for me - the _crazy_ girl."

Danny just laughed, plucking a bright purple flower from a nearby bush and presenting it to me. "Sam, crazy's not a label. If it was, you'd have to lock us all up, because we all lose it sometimes. Besides, even if you were 'crazy', I wouldn't have pity for you. You're one of the most alive people I know. And you're not the only one who sees the ghosts."

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**Hmm. It seemed longer before. :( Aw well, at least it's a good deal longer than the last chapter. I hope this one explains a little bit about Sam - but if it left you wondering, don't worry. You'll find out a lot more about her soon. **

**Review! Leave your thoughts.**


	7. Chapter Six

**Disclaimer: Still don't own _Danny Phantom._**

**No Author's Note today. :( Sad.**

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Chapter Six

"Sammy, sentimental, aren't you?" Kates, as usual, was alone in our room when I came in. "A token of his love?"

"I wasn't going to save it," I argued, twirling the flower in my hands. "I was only going to give it to _you_. I know...I know it's hard not being out there." I walked over and placed the flower on her dresser, stopping at the window as I went by. The grass, the flowers, all that she was missing...

"Sam, don't."

"Come on, Kates, what are they thinking? They're the crazy ones, a little sunshine won't hurt! A little nature, a little...oh." The sound escaped from my lips without my meaning to.

Kates got up from her bed, shuffling over to stand next to me. "You see him, don't you?"

I did. I hadn't seen him, not lately, not since Danny had been around. If it hadn't been for the notebook, I might have forgotten completely. "Yes."

"Where?"

"By the pink flowered bush, and oh! Now he's behind that tree by the bench, over there! Oh, he's gone."

"I didn't see him," Kates said. She never did, but she always believed me, and she always tried. We were friends like that. "Sammy," she began, "I've got to go see the doctor tomorrow. I have an appointment."

**--DP--**

_A flash of silver from side to side, green streaks around the trees, and then...a face at the window. Not my face, a stranger's, but one I knew so well. His. And he was mouthing something, "Help, Sam. Help."_

_I tried to ask him what it was. "What? What is it, Danny?" He just shook his head sadly - of course, because _he wasn't Danny_. And then he disappeared, and so did I._

_The next thing I was aware of, was standing in the halls, and this time it _was_ Danny that came running out of the big double doors.  
_

_"Sam! Help!"_

_And then he was running back, returning with a stretcher. A stretcher? I turned to look at the stretcher, and saw Kates, laid out all fancy and pretty, her face the most peaceful I had ever seen it._

_Behind us, an ominous voice rang out. "We can't cure her," the doctor said, pulling up a sheet to cover her up._

"KATES!" I woke up screaming. "Kates!"

Sandy climbed onto my bed, stroking my hair. "It's okay, honey. Kates' gone off to her appointment, but she'll be back."

"She's in trouble," I murmured.

"It'll be okay, Sam," Irene added, coming over to comfort me. "Kates' condition isn't harmful. They've already told us that, this is just a check-up."

I turned toward the wall, repeating the bleak words from my dream, the same words a doctor had said a few years back, although he had later retracted them. "We can't cure her."

**--DP--**

"Sam, Kates is back!" Rosie yelled down, her head hanging out of her window, next door to our empty room, as she spied on Danny and me. "Thought you'd like to know!"

I grabbed Danny's hand. "We'll be right up!" I ran all the way from the garden up to our floor, dragging Danny behind me. "Kates!"

Kates was sitting on the bed when we burst in. "Hey Sam."

"How was it?"

Her red rimmed eyes met mine, and we both repeated the phrase. "We can't cure her."

"How did--?" Kates looked up at me, confused.

"A dream," I muttered. "Just a dream. I'll, uh, tell you about it later."

Danny backed up to the door. "Do you mind if I go?" With two shakes of our heads, Danny vanished.

"I dreamt about him last night," I said, sitting down next to Kates and attempting to distract her.

"About Danny? That's a good thing, you're making progress," she analyzed, but her voice was flat. "You like him?"

"I didn't _just_ dream about Danny. I also dreamt about the other boy. The...the ghost," I whispered.

Now she was interested. "You did?"

"Yeah." I recounted the dream for her, even leaving in the sad parts that included her. "So, what do you think?"

"Someone's telling you to choose. If you did, who would you pick?"

I laughed. "It's an impossible choice. One is the stuff of my dreams for so long, but we've never met. And the other is Danny. He doesn't  
even like me like that, for all you know, he could have a girlfriend. One out there."

"He doesn't." My look prompted her to continue. "I, uh, cornered him when you were in isolation," she admitted, blushing. "He doesn't have a girlfriend, and Sam, you just might have an admirer."

"I'm not falling for it."

"I'm not pulling your leg, Sammy. He said it. I asked him, 'Do you like Sam?' and he definitely said yes, well, after a lot of prodding. He's a hard one to pull secrets out of, but I have my ways." She smiled devilishly, before turning serious, the smile melting into a quivering mouth, her eyes reflecting the future tears. "I know you like him," she half-laughed, trying to keep the fun going for as long as possible. "And promise, _promise_ you'll give him a chance, Sammy. For me. In case, _I_ don't get a chance to have a Danny in my life."

My eyes held questions, even as I nodded. I knew not to ask, she'd only tell if she wanted to.

She did. "I know the doctors aren't always right, but they think I have a few months to live. And I'm not sure, but they might be right this time. Sammy, the tumor's back."

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**I'll probably update again sometime this weekend, maybe Sunday, depending on how much homework I have - and adding in sleep time, cause a girl needs to sleep and I really haven't been getting much lately. :(**

**But anyway, review! Tell me what you liked/disliked. **


	8. Chapter Seven

**Disclaimer: Still don't own _Danny Phantom._**

**Author's Note: Oh. My. Gosh. I am SO incredibly sorry about not updating sooner, I know I'm way behind and I know have been stretching out this story for _way too long_. I've just been so busy, I can't even keep my school stuff straight, so my homework time is literally bleeding into my creative time. It's a mess.  
**

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Chapter Seven

"Sam, I'm really sorry about Kates." He reached a hand out, probably to touch me, but I shimmied away, scurrying back into my room.

I shook my head again and again. "No, no, no, don't say that!" I cried, forcing a hand over my mouth, as if I could stuff his words back in. If he said stuff like that, he didn't understand. There was so much death here, and they all said the same things. _Sorry...really sorry...so sorry...so very sorry..._shut up shut up shut up shut up! I wrenched back the door a few feet and stuffed myself back there, my back to the wall as I counted. _One sorry...two sorry...three sorry..._

"Danny? Aren't you with Sam?"

I could hear Angie's worry, even from my spot behind the door.

"I was, she...I think I did something to upset her. I said I was sor--"

"Shh," she said, "she's not deaf. She can hear you, from behind the door, and you don't want her to catch you saying that, it always worries her, since her grandmother..."

"Her grandmother?"

"Didn't she tell you?"

My grandmother. _My grandmother, Ida._ It had only been about four years ago, when I was ten, and I got a temporary leave. My grandma was sick, and by then she was the closest person to me by far, about a million galaxies closer than my parents. After the accident, it was like she was my only parent. Once the doctor said the illness was really bad, the aunts materialized out of nowhere; and the uncles, too. My cousins that I never saw. A random assortment of people, and people who weren't even related. Friends, teachers, neighbors, old coworkers. Some had never even stopped to say hello before, but now that she was sick, it was like they all cared.

I tried to escape from it all; there were so many voices. Each guest targeted a different relative, and I walked through the room trying to find someone to talk to, someone different from everyone else, someone to help me escape, to help me forget. But it was all the same. _Sorry...so sorry...sorry for your loss...very sorry...it must be so hard, I'm so sorry...sorry...sorry..._

They all spoke like that, saying sorry, as if she was dead. She wasn't, not yet. She had a few days left. She still had the spark in her eyes, it was just fainter than ever before.

The day of the funeral, I ran. I ran from my house, refusing to sit still and stiffly next to my cousins, leaping out of the car at the last second. I remember my uncle leaning over, my aunt's reprimand, "Don't." I don't know who she was talking to, but I took it as aimed to my uncle, and I ran. No one stopped me. They all remembered. They knew it was better that I jumped out then.

At the time, I still remembered what it felt like, how she went. I still remembered her face, like stone, and her hand going limp in mine. It had just been a few days before, and I didn't want to be consoled for that. That was my moment, who were they to take it from me? Who were they to take her from me? She'd gone peacefully in the end, so why was it _sorry_? I hid during the funeral, crouching behind a nearby tombstone. But I couldn't take the reception, not even from behind the couch. When no one was looking, the door opened, so softly, and I slid out. To the park. That was where I first saw _him_, where I first decided that I believed. I believed in ghosts.

And I remembered now, oh, I remembered. The silver and green, the eyes, so hauntingly beautiful. I watched him fight, beating back those clumsy ghosts so easily. I knew they were bad, and he was good. I could feel it. He had even seen me when he was all done, and about to fly away.

He looked at me and I wondered. He was so young, only my age, and here he was, defending the city, keeping us safe. How could that happen? I looked around in my life and saw so many worthless, so many nurses and doctors at the institution that were two or three or even four times older than he was, and they did so much less. Some of them had jobs that could _save lives_, but they didn't even try. How many times did they pass us in the halls, weeping and broken, and say nothing? They had degrees, but they couldn't figure us out. They didn't even try. And then there was this ghost boy.

That was why I loved him.

I had a sudden urge to tell all of this, to get off my pathetic butt and wipe away my stupid tears, to go find Danny and tell him (only maybe not the part about me loving the ghost boy). But when I stood up and looked into the hall, Danny was long gone.

**--DP--**

"Did he ask, Angie? Did he? He must think I'm such a freak now."

"It's alright to be sad, Sam. And he doesn't think you're a freak."

"Rosie?"

"Angie explained everything."

I slumped down against the bedpost, tears pooling in my eyes and draining out the sides. "So why'd he leave?"

"He said he'd give you space. He said he knew about death and he said that you'd understand that."

Right. I was such an idiot. Nadine, of course...Danny would've understood anyway. He just didn't get the _sorry_s, because it wasn't his relative. _He_ was the one that was sorry for the relatives. Of course, like everything else, he was the one that would be sorry for me.

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**Tell me what you think. This chapter's pretty important (in terms of Sam's life), but expect a huge surprise in the next one.**

**Unless you're psychic, in which case it will be no surprise, but it was actually even a shocker to me. I just had this random idea, ran with it, and stuck it in on a whim, and I'm hoping it works out.**

**So review. Tell me the first thing that comes into your mind (EXCEPT for bashing me for being so late, because who wants to break a girl's heart with bashing, right?).**

**P.S. I'm also fixing my profile, for anyone who cares. A link to my blog's up. It's really boring, just info about updates and stuff, but you can check it out if you really want (just click on my homepage).  
**


	9. Chapter Eight

**Disclaimer: Still don't own _Danny Phantom_, but I do own this fanfic!  
**

**Author's Note: This chapter is not just long, but also definitely different. It's very choppy and chaotic, but it's written that way for a reason, so please bear with me. It's the best I can do to express all of the emotions in this chapter. Fun fact: This chapter was also a _bonus_ _chapter_, as I never intended to write this until just about a month ago, when it pretty much jumped from my head. I have left it almost untouched, except for some crucial editing.  
**

**-- Also, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, do NOT skip the long author's paragraph at the end of this chapter (where the boring "Please Reviews!" and happy smiley faces usually are). PLEASE read it. It is very important!**

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Chapter Eight

It was only eight in the morning when someone rapped on our door. "Miss Manson?" It was Jessica, the new assistant nurse.

"Yeah?" I was barely awake, I'd only been out of bed for a half hour, not even bothering to go down for breakfast. "What is it?"

"You've got a visitor waiting. Can you be down in ten minutes?"

Kates smiled from her bed in the corner. "Must be Danny."

I grinned back. It had to be. Who else would visit me? "Yeah, Jessica. I'll be down in ten."

**--DP--**

The Visitor's Center was not unfamiliar to me. We'd all seen it, although personally, I'd hardly been in it. I just knew that inside waited Ms. Gimmel, the visitor supervisior and wannabe-pyschologist. None of us knew if she even had her PhD, or if that certificate in her office was a fake. Either way, she always tried to psycho-analyze us. Gross. I just hoped she wouldn't scare Danny off.

In any case, it was weird to be out so early. I often forgot how large the grounds were, I almost never went to east side, where the stone buildings lurked. Nobody was outside. I waved to about three people, including a janitor, before I got to the Visitor's Center.

At least hanging out with Danny will help me shake this weird feeling, I thought, as I opened the door and peeked in. I could only see the backs of the chairs, where I assumed Danny was sitting, but as soon as I stepped into the room, I knew something was wrong. Immediately after the door closed behind me, two people stood up from their seats and turned around. And I found myself directly facing two people - neither with black hair. One was blond, the other had red hair.

I scrambled backward, trying for the door. I didn't care who saw me. Forget their feelings. I found the door handle and pushed...the door had locked behind me.

"Miss Manson, won't you sit down?" Ms. Gimmel materialized in the corner of the room, stepping forward. "You have visitors here to see you."

Trapped. "You're not Danny," I whispered, backing up even more, until the only thing holding me up was the door.

"Pardon?" She continued advancing, the two stone statues in the middle of the room looking on.

"There has to be some mistake," I said, shaking my head. "I should go now."

By now she had reached me, curling a hand around my arm and pulling me forward. "Don't be shy. Won't you say hello?"

"I'd rather not."

"Don't make this hard, sweetie. You don't want anyone to lose their visiting rights, do you?" She hissed. I knew exactly who she was hinting at - the one visitor I didn't mind. She knew I understood, she could see it in my eyes, she could feel it in the way my arm went limp under her grasp. "Now, say hello, and then sit down."

"Hi," I grunted, shaking my arm free and plopping down into a chair, avoiding their eyes.

The blond-haired woman about swooned. "Oh, Samantha, it's been so long...we're so sorry about that, by the way, but you know how things go. It's just," she started to dab at her eyes, "we came here today, on this special day, to...talk about the past."

No. No. No, no, no, no, no! I could sit here and play nice for a few hours, but...there was no past to discuss. This had to be going against everything, right? They couldn't just bring up anything, could they? The hospital had to have rules about this. I wasn't ready. Talking about what brought me in could only make me worse. In my desperation, I turned toward Ms. Gimmel.

"Your nurses say that you're getting on so well, Samantha, you might be able to go home sooner than later." I was amazed Ms. Gimmel could keep her professional image while lying so badly. "We just need to resolve one little issue. Samantha, your parents are here to help you discuss exactly what happened on," she stopped, consulting a large yellow notepad on her desk, "May 14, 2001? We believe talking about it will be the best therapy. Do you remember what happened on that day?"

In my mind's eye, I imagined the check my parents had written out to the hospital. Was it enough for a new wing? Maybe. And then I imagined myself living in that new wing for the rest of my life, sans any visits from Danny. I imagined my parents coming to find me, week after week. I knew what I had to do. I nodded.

"You remember? Could you describe what happened, please?"

It couldn't be a good thing that I felt like I was on trial. I sat up straighter in my chair, pretending to be the guilty suspect trying not to get tripped by tricky questions. "It was spring. We...we went on vacation. We went to a lake. I played in the water every day until it was time to leave," I said, closing my eyes to see it better. I hadn't thought of it in so long. I hadn't thought of those last days, the way it felt in that water, to be free and floating. To be free. For the last time.

"And after that?"

This was the hard part. My eyes snapped open to see my parents staring intensely at me. "The next day, we had to leave. We packed up our bags," I said softly. "We were ready to return home."

I was flooded with sensations, memories shaken from a box, playing out of order. T_he water, sparkling and winking at me as we left. Drying out my bathing suit. The first day we arrived. Our last meal there, breakfast, before we settled in for a long drive. Talking, laughing. Resolving that the last day would be the best. Our last night there. A campfire. Scorched marshmallows. Good nights' sleeps to the lullaby of nature._ The box emptied, displaying no memory that dated later than my last glimpse of the cabin. No memories of the drive home. I didn't need those, those would be forever etched into my brain.

Back in the present, I sighed, knowing exactly that the hardest memories to recall were the ones my parents were after. With one last blink, I snapped my eyes closed, letting the engraved memories burn bright in the darkness of my mind. It was almost like a short movie that I watched with shut eyelids. Scene after scene played until it became unbearable. My head felt close to caving in, and finally, the movie stopped.

I stood up and pointed, my finger unwavering and level between my parents' heads. I wagged it back and forth while I spat out sentences, a short prose that told it all, that condemned them. "She drove. He sat up there, talking. Distracting her. She lost control. He isn't innocent. They're guilty. They killed someone."

My mother flinched, grabbing my arm and pulling it down. "It wasn't like that."

"Tell the truth," my father demanded...and thoughts pulled straight from the past floated into my head...

_"Tell the truth...tell the truth..." My mother, in the corner, sobbing. "The truth." My father screaming in the hallway. He's crying too. I can hear them both, all the way from inside my room._

_They gave me my own room. It's white. That's my favorite color. I tell the doctor this and he smiles._

_My dad's outside. I can see him now through the doorway. He's doing his fast walk, up and down the hall. He does this a lot at home. It means I'm not supposed to talk to him. It means he's working._

I sank down into my chair, crying, feeling useless and worthless. Couldn't they leave me alone? Couldn't they let me get better? No, I had to think about it. The memories came flying back, the movie resuming, slapping me in the face with picture after picture. Pieces of that day like the rubble of a crash.

_The wind. The steering wheel, left, left, LEFT. Left to the bridge, left to the water below. The click of a seatbelt, the door opening._

"Sam," my mother's gentle voice, speaking to me like she used to. Soft. "Who's driving?" Just like always, she knows exactly what I'm seeing. She knows what I'm remembering.

_Screaming. Hands pulling a body back into the car. Strong hands. Another delicate pair forward to the steering wheel, turning it right. Right, right to the road, right to the road back home to Grammy._

"Who do you see, Sam?"

_I see a truck. A truck heading for us. A body shielding mine. Another leaning across the front seat, desperate to click shut a seatbelt...but...They're late, too late..._

_Crunch._

"Who was driving?" Even softer. You could wonder how I could hate this woman, this gentle, loving woman. You could wonder, but I don't have to.

_A body, the driver's body, flies from the front seat. My grandfather's body._

Not for the first time, I wondered, _If his plan had gone right, if he had thrown himself into the water, what would have happened to us? Did he plan for my parents and me to die that day, too?_

I collapsed, falling off my chair. That day, my mother saved me. I escaped from the crash with only a cut. Unlike my grandfather, I lived to walk out of the hospital.

That day, my mother saved me from an extended hospital stay. Within a few months, she had me committed.

* * *

**Sadly, this story will have to come to an end soon. I only have plans for a few more chapters - I have two written out, but I'm still deciding whether or not to write in another bonus chapter. It certainly would be fun, and I'll probably ask your opinions on that later.**

**In the meantime, I am going to have to prepare for my next story. I have two stories that have been locked up in my brain for quite awhile now, one was even the reason that I made this account...almost three years ago. So, I wanted to know (without giving too much away), which one you guys would be most interested in reading next. I have two videos on YouTube, one for each story, and I will put up a poll on my profile soon. You can find the links for the videos on my profile.  
**

**As the videos only supply a vague (or in some cases, very vague) backdrop for the stories, I will also prepare a short sneak peek for each story. These will be small excerpts that don't actually appear in either story, but are close to one of them. These will be posted on my blog, which can be found through the "Homepage" link on my profile.**

**If anyone is confused, please message me, or leave a review asking your question. I'm trying to explain this as best as I can, but I don't always explain everything well enough, so I'm very aware that some people will be confused, which is totally okay. Don't be afraid to ask, and thanks for reading my long, boring note. I really hope you vote in my poll, because I need some feedback. Thanks again!  
**


	10. Chapter Nine

**Disclaimer: Still don't own _Danny Phantom_. If I did, it would never have been canceled and would air daily! :D  
**

**Author's Note: Wow. I don't know where to start. Not updating for as long as I did - unforgivable. I allow you, dear readers, to pelt me with day-old loaves of bread. Just please, put down the bread long enough to write the chapter. If anyone is actually interested in hearing excuses and exactly where all of my time is disappearing to...just message me or email me or something, because if I wrote it all here, you would never get to finish the story. And there is only ONE more chapter left after this, sadly.**

**PLEASE READ THIS: Everyone who skips notes before the story (and everyone else), READ THIS! Please don't skip this, since I'm about to tell you exactly what happened in the last chapter, so you're not confused. When I was writing it, I wanted it to be...confusing, to put it poorly. I didn't want it to be crystal clear what happened, which I see now, was not the best idea. Basically what happened is when Sam was a child, she was very close to her grandparents, almost more so than she was to her parents, because her parents were always busy, although they still loved her. One night, on the way home from a family vacation, her grandfather attempted suicide. He, for unspecified reasons, was very unhappy with his life, although Sam didn't know it, and tried to drive the car off the road and jump out of the car, off the bridge they were driving on, and into the water below. Just in time, Sam's father pulled him back into the car as Sam's mother grabbed the wheel. However, as the car was swerving, they realized that a truck was headed straight for it. At the last minute, the car was able to pass the truck with only a small side collision. Sam's mother shielded Sam, saving her, but her father was unable to fasten her grandfather's seatbelt in time, and her grandfather flew through the windshield and died. Sam, however, couldn't bear to handle the trauma of her beloved grandfather trying to kill himself (especially as his preferred method would have killed Sam's parents as well as Sam) and so she repressed the memory and replaced it with a fake memory. She could bear the thought that her parents, who she was not as close to, were the real criminals. So in her mind, she believed that her parents were at fault. Later, after her parents realized the toll that the trauma had taken on young Sam - who by this point refused her parents in all entirety - had her admitted to a mental hospital.  
**

**-- Also, if you want to have a say in what DP story I write next...PLEASE VOTE IN THE POLL! It's still there, it hasn't gone anywhere!  
**

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Chapter Nine

I ran away. It sounds childish like that, the concept of leaving when things get rough, but that's not what I did. I left because if I had to take any more of that life, a life without light, something would happen. I could feel the tension building with each growing second, so just before the alarm went off, I disappeared. I couldn't have orchestrated it better. At night, in bed, I slipped off my pajamas, changing into street clothes that my mom had sent me a year ago to wear on holiday leaves. Then the next day, during breakfast, I pleaded sick, and since they still thought I was mourning for Kate, there wasn't even a guard standing by me. I was free to slip out the window.

I ran as far from the hospital as I could, grabbed a bike, and peddled away for hours, before finally stopping at a diner. I'd even taken my money stash, but I knew I couldn't get far. Patients were only allowed to have fifty dollars of pocket change per year, to spend on birthdays and holidays, and that would never stand a chance at feeding me for more than two weeks.

"One lemonade please, and a hamburger," I asked the waiter, unsure how to order. I'd never ordered from a nice sit-down restaurant like this. The only time I had been to restaurants was when I was younger, and then my parents had ordered for me.

"Fries or coleslaw?"

"Fries, please." If only Kates could see her girl now. She would be proud.

"Ma'am," the waiter looked amused, "the gentleman in the corner would like to pick up your check, so it's all settled."

I flushed, thinking of Kates. Her romantic ways had rubbed off on me, and so I thought that the man would be a little older than me, handsome, and that he too would blush when our eyes met. He'd feed me some romantic goop, like, "The least I could do was buy you a dinner, since your heart's not for sale", and we'd fall in love.

"It's alright to look ma'am, he isn't looking." The waiter sure was having a good time.

Subtly, I snuck a look around the diner. There was only a lonesome man in the corner, stabbing his soda with the straw. "That's him?" I asked, coldly.

The waiter nodded. At least I'd knocked that idiot grin off his face.

I grabbed my food and lemonade, strutted across the diner, and slid into the booth opposite the man, or, should I say, boy. "Danny, what do you think you're doing here? I'm not going back."

"That's fine. I'm not here to bring you back."

"Because you don't know what it's like, with...wait, what?! You mean, you're not..."

Danny shook his head, staring back down into the dark depths of his soda. "It's your decision, Sam. No one could force you."

"So they didn't send you to come find me?"

"They interrogated me alright, if that's what you mean," Danny muttered, and I felt bad for dragging him into this. "They knew I was good friends with you, and tried to trick me into telling where you'd gone. But I didn't know, because you didn't tell me."

"Danny," I started to say, but then stopped when he looked up. I didn't have any words to say to him after all.

"Don't feel bad," he said, "it was better I didn't know. I didn't have to lie to your scary nurses, after all."

"True," I said, attempting a laugh. "And she's not_ just _scary, she's so horrifying she could make a _ghost_ quiver in his pants!"

Danny gave me a weird look. "Yeah," he laughed, but it was almost absent. I guessed he was just thinking. About what, I don't know.

"I just...I don't know what to do now," I confided. "I'd like to go back - it's my only home, but I can't, because it's so...so not the same place without Kates. I feel like such an outsider, you don't even know."

"No."

His voice was so firm, but I didn't have a clue what he was talking about. "Excuse me?"

"No," he repeated, "I do know what it's like to be an outsider." He dug around in his pocket, and stuck a tip on the table. "Come with me."

"Where are we going?"

Danny looked around. "Back here." He pulled me behind a dumpster.

Kates would definitely get a kick out of this. Behind a dumpster, late at night, sounds romantic right? No? Well, probably the closest I'd ever get anyway.

But Danny didn't kiss me. "Is anyone coming?"

"No..."

"Do you promise not to get freaked out?"

"Danny, what's going on?!"

And then, Danny looked me straight in the eyes. He took a deep breath, and suddenly two glowing silver ovals ran up and down his body. Danny was gone. In his place was...the ghost. My ghost.

"Danny?"

"They call me Danny Phantom when I look like this. Actually, they call me Invis-o-bill. But they _should_ call me Danny Phantom. I just could never get the name to stick...Sam? Sam, are you okay?"

"So, you've been Danny...Phantom all along? So I've been drawing _you_? Oh my God." I swear I turned maybe five shades of red and two shades of purple.

"Yeah, but don't be embarrassed! I think it's cool," Danny said quickly, trying to make feel better but not succeeding at all. "So, are you going to go back now?"

"I'm your first."

He looked confused. Well, Danny wore a confused look roughly three times a day, but this was the most confused I'd ever seen him, and the most vigorous I'd ever seen him blush. "My first...um, what exactly are you, um, my first, uh, of?"

"The first person you ever told."

"Well, yeah. The guys at school, they'd never understand. I'd show them, and they'd go running to tell the news."

"The news? C'mon, Danny, that's just...the news wouldn't exploit you."

"Not exploit, but...there's this great feeling I get to do all of this stuff, to save people, but I don't want people to know it's me. It would change things. I don't want thanks." Danny looked at the ground as he spoke, and at his hands, as if in wonder that he really did save people.

"So why did you tell me if you want to keep it such a secret?"

"Because you're my friend, my best friend, and I know you wouldn't tell. Right?"

"Nope," I said, grinning. The whole time that I had been away from the hospital, I had been focused on feeling like a normal person, and suddenly I felt the most normal talking to Danny next to a dumpster. Okay, so I felt a little bit like a little kid swearing to 'cross my heart and hope to die', but I felt normal, not like a fragile person prone to tantrums and crazy spells.

"Not even if you got mad at me?"

"No, never. I'd die before I told."

"Not even if something happened to me?"

"Not even if you died." I paused. "Hey, Danny, could something happen?"

"I don't know, maybe," Danny said, stopping for a second to look at me. "How'd you know you were the first person I told?"

"Because, Danny, if you'd told someone, you'd know that it's a big deal. You can't just say it and be done! And you can't get away with changing the topic that fast to something like me going back."

He grinned like a little kid with a secret stash of lollipops. "So...you want to see exactly what I can do as a ghost?"

"Do you really have to ask?"

That night, Danny took me back to the hospital. We flew into the room and in the morning, I lied. I said I'd been wandering the grounds at night. Angie covered for me, but gave me the look. I never told her the truth. I never told anyone how Danny flew me around the city that night, how he took me to see the outside world, and how I felt like I belonged there.

I'll never forget the last thing I ever said to Danny. I asked him if he'd be okay flying home that night. It was late.

He said yes, but I never saw Danny again. I never saw the ghost either.

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**There you go. We have one chapter left, and I wish I could promise to update soon...but it's up to you. It's simple, really: If I get _10 reviews_ or _5 more votes in my poll_, I'll update. If you don't...maybe I'll take pity on you and update the day before Christmas. ;D But back to that one chapter left thing...that might change, too, depending on YOU.**

**After the next chapter, I'll give you a choice about whether or not there should be a special chapter at the end in Danny's POV. Just start thinking about if you'd like to see that...**

**But please, review. And vote in the poll on my profile! I still have sneak peaks to the two candidates duking it out for which will be _the next DP story_, and there are links to the sneak peaks and trailers for both on my profile. Just, go to my profile. It's a great place, I swear.  
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**Again, sorry for the late update, and I'll update again when you give me some feedback!  
**


	11. Epilogue

**This will be the last chapter for this story. I know there's a lot that was left out, but there's a reason for it, which I will explain at the end. Hopefully, the missing gap between the last chapter and this one will be made clear in this chapter.**

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Epilogue

_November 2080_

No nurse in the hospital knew a time when the woman had had a visitor. It would be as outlandish as seeing the woman without the heavy-lined wrinkles that adorned her face. And yet, here he was - an already strange looking visitor, a teenage boy, aged beyond possibility and out of breath. She couldn't remember the last time any young person had come to the hospital to visit, and still, there was something about this boy that suggested he wasn't as young as she thought.

"Is Ms. Manson here?" He asked, and each nurse fell silent. Naturally, it would be this strange boy that asked for their most peculiar and puzzling patient.

A middle-aged nurse, Jenna Rosenberg (whose grandmother was Nadine Rosenberg, although she never met her), stepped from around the counter. "I'll direct you to her," she said, leading the boy up staircases and down hallways so familiar to him that he might have cried to walk them alone. He might have cried to walk them with the nurse, but he didn't want to alarm her.

"Ms. Manson, you have a visitor," Jenna announced, stopping at a room one floor shy of the one the boy might have headed for. He looked around the room, noticing the one biggest change: the color. This might not be the floor he used to frequent, but he knew all rooms had looked the same - white. This one had pale blue walls, and baby blue curtains.

The wrinkled woman looked up from the bed she sat on, facing the gardens and staring longingly outside. When they entered the room, she dropped her arm, which had been raised as if to reach out to the flowers outside. "Oh, I don't know you. Do you read?" She held the book out to the boy, who took it.

The nurse, watching the scene, backed out of the room and down the hallway, knowing the woman would be docile. "Should I read this out loud?" The boy was openly crying now, visibly shaken by the sight in front of him, and the fact that she didn't know him.

A twinkle sparkled in the woman's eye, almost hidden. "No, it was just a front. They think I'm crazy," she said, taking the book back.

"I told you once before, crazy's not a label, Sam."

Sam heaved a giant sigh, a sigh that belonged to worn-out mothers that had outlived their children, and not to a teenager. But then, Danny reminded himself, she wasn't a teenager. "It's not the same reason as why I was committed. They think I'm crazy because I babble about this book, and the real boy who lives. They think I'm crazy because I always believed he'd be back. I don't care, I knew you'd be back, Danny."

"How did you know?" He picked up the book, _Peter Pan_, from her bedside table and traced the boy. "You knew I'd still be young. You knew I wouldn't grow up between the night I left you, and today."

"I felt it, the way you feel a phantom limb. You were my phantom limb, Danny," she said, crying at the sound of her own joke.

He was beyond crying, he was sobbing now, and laughing. "Sam, you should know. I was going to come back, the next day, but that night I was-"

"I know," she said, and suddenly her voice changed. It was brittle, a thin cover to protect fragile Sam. "I felt it. I didn't tell anyone where you had gone, not even when I thought you were dead. I wanted to keep hoping, and I wouldn't admit it to myself. Everyone wondered. Everyone asked me - Danny, even the kitchen staff thought...knew we were dating! Who would've guessed that a patient and a volunteer would be so popular?"

She paused, and Danny knew better than to interrupt. He wanted her to keep speaking, and she did. "Danny, the whole time that I thought you were dead, I found myself on the verge of death so many times. You couldn't imagine the accidents I got into. It was almost as if Mother Nature was trying to kill me and at the last minute, saving my life. It was torture, like my life was someone's game, their entertainment. The first ten years were the worst. Fires and other natural disasters, unforeseen accidents claimed everyone's lives but mine. Nothing hurt like Kates' death, and nothing compared to yours. Angie died. Irene died. Rosie was last. I supposed they were following you, to that place you told me about - the Ghost Zone. I wanted to die more than any of them. I wanted to find you. This building burned down at least twice, but it never took me with it. You may have noticed - it's a different building, Danny, but you and I have barely changed.

"And then, it got better. I heard your voice after ten years and in an instant, the decade without you seemed like an hour. I told myself I could hold on, for you. You saved me, keeping me alive with the thought...the knowledge that you would come back before I died. When I heard your voice, it confirmed what I already knew - that you were still alive, but it also dared me to hope again."

Danny was sitting on the bed opposite Sam, a bed that had never been filled, and smiled ruefully. "I could imagine the accidents, actually. I tried to come faster, Sam. I'm only seventy-two hours older than the last time I saw you, did you know that? And you're seventy-two _years_ older." He, too, was becoming more animated, so much more youthful than the old-looking young man who entered the door.

"And I won't last much longer. You came at the right time, really. Oh, Danny, and you lost people, too. Your family..."

"Jazz is still alive. I dropped in on her this morning. She was reading. Can you imagine that? She's over eighty years old and she's reading. She never quits studying...never quit...never..." He broke off suddenly, unable to speak. He couldn't even begin to fathom what words to use, the way to talk as if he had never missed almost three-quarters of a century.

"It's not fair! I'm young! I want to grow up. I wanted to get old, with you. Do you think, when you die, I can come? Or can I take you with me, right now if you'd like. Maybe you won't be able to die in the Ghost Zone, or maybe you will, but you'll just stay there. We could be there forever together, and never ever age."

"Wendy never got to return to Neverland, Peter."

"You're better than Wendy, and besides, you've never been to the Ghost Zone, so you won't be returning."

"And you're one thousand times better than Peter, but I still don't know if I can come. I don't know the rules, but we can try. It'll be my dying wish."

It was all they could hope for, everything they felt they deserved. She died a few minutes later, looking far younger than any nurse had ever seen her. She looked like a teenager. Danny walked out the front door, his face miraculously dry of tears, after alerting a nurse. Once he got outside, he took off in flight, after helping someone else along the way.

Her body was buried a week later. There were two unseen guests, both in the form of teenagers, at the burial. They didn't stay for long. They had other places to go.

At the service, Jenna Rosenberg read a line from the woman's favorite book, the line that had been highlighted and underlined and repeated so many times, "All children grow up, but some get a second chance."

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**I'm considering posting another one-chapter story about what happened to Danny (I've got the short story figured out already). I had been debating with myself for the longest time about adding a chapter before this one that would have explained it, but I ditched the idea because I felt it didn't fit right - this whole story is centered on Sam. But please, if you're interested in hearing Danny's explanation of the disappearance, please say so.**

**Also, I'd like to thank everyone for reading this entire story. Please, please review and leave your thoughts. And, I would absolutely adore anyone who took the time to vote in the poll on my profile -- if you haven't already.**

**Thanks again for reading!**

**Love, IAmTheLonelyHeart**


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